"Go ahead," Da said, his eyes gleaming with pride. "This sword was given to me bymyomega father, and his before him. As mouse shifter omegas, we need to defend ourselves, Meeko. Let this sword keep you safe."
I reached for it with shaky paws. It was heavier than I expected but not impossible to wield. I observed it closely, awed by the glinting steel and the intricate gold and green leaf-shaped decorations on the scabbard. There was a leather loop attached to the sheath that allowed me to sling the sword around my shoulder. Da took the loop and put it over my head. The sword hung by my waist. The weight and power of it was comforting.
"This is really mine?" I breathed.
Da nodded. "All yours. Don't lose it. If you ever have omega children, you'll pass it on to them."
Back then it waswaytoo early for me to be thinking about children of my own, so I just giddily stroked the sheath with my paw, proud to have the sword in my possession.
"Wait!" I'd cried. "I don't know how to use it..."
Da chuckled knowingly, like he was waiting for me to bring that up. "You think? Good thing Da's going to teach you how to wield it."
"Yay! Can we practice right now?"
"Sure, Meeko."
As I giddily ran outside the den to the lowest branch on the tree with Da following me, Pa called after us, "Don't fall off and break your tail!"
The cry of a bird overhead jarred me out of the memory. I sharply looked up, then relaxed. It was only a gull. Chance of being eaten: low.
When my millisecond of panic was over, my fur smoothed and I continued my sword practice. It was my ritual every single morning: wake up, eat a stashed nut or berry, then practice. Nobody ever improved their swordplay by sitting around and ogling the blade. It took hard work and effort.
As I came back to reality, I realized I was smiling. The memory of my dads stirred up a warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest. I missed them. Were they still at home in our tree den, snuggled up together in the lazy late morning warmth? Maybe they'd shifted to their human forms to take a stroll through the woods.
I sighed as I listlessly swung my sword. My dads always looked so happy together. I couldn't imagine being in that position. For one thing, I didn't have a mate, never mind a fated one. How the hell was I supposed to find a mate if everything in the world was trying to eat me? And good freaking luck if I ever wanted to meet another mouse shifter. It was a double-edged sword that we were so good at sneaking. It kept us safe and alive, but it also meant we never ran into each other.
Needless to say, our dating prospects weren't great.
I channelled my frustration into my arms, slicing the air with my sword.
Dating. Mates. Who needed all that anyway?
Slice.
Not me.
Whoosh.
My Da had made it very clear to me that alphas weren't to be trusted, and as an adult I'd realized that I had no romantic attraction to other omegas. Add to that the fact that other mouse shifters were so elusive and that left me shit out of luck when it came to dating options.
Could I be attracted to a shifter who wasn't a mouse, I wondered? Probably not. Unless he was a shrew, or a vole, or some other kind of small rodent shifter...
Whumpf.
Anyway, even if I did run into the most handsome rat shifter in the whole world, it wouldn't matter because alphas weren't to be trusted. Period. Especially not one who was bigger and stronger than me. Please.
Okay, maybe a rat shifter wasn't the best example considering they all towered over me. What was smaller than a mouse? Wasn't there a little species of bat that was even more minuscule than the smallest mouse? That could work. We could communicate by squeaking at each other in such high-pitched octaves that every dog within a five-mile radius would go berserk.
Gods. What was I doing, fantasizing about my future tiny bat boyfriend when I should have been doing something actually productive?
I shoved all thoughts of romance out of my head and focused on practicing. My paws gripped the handle harder. I evened my breathing. Da had taught me the blade was an extension of me and I treated it as such. Losing the sword—knock on wood—would be like losing a limb.
After emptying my mind of pointless things like romance, I fell into a meditative state. The world flowed like a blur around me. Nothing mattered except me and the sword.
Could I be fated mates with a sword? Was that a thing that could happen? I imagined visiting my dads with an armful of little baby swords with mouse ears and tails...
Now you're really being stupid, Meeko.
